Rescued
by borderfame-sabrestar
Summary: DM/HG:9/10 The moment they both realise what it is that they have lost - if only she had more faith in him, and if he could only be a little stronger. Depressing, morbid, sad faces all round.


I really didn't like writing this one, it made me cry a little bit. But I don't think I've read a story that tells the truth about this couple. It's sad (depressing, even) and it's a bit morbid, but I felt like I had to write it. I hope you feel my pain, and if you do I apologise for the emotional anguish. Based on the song 'Rescued' by Jack's Mannequin, and all credit to them for that.

* * *

><p><strong>Rescued<strong>

_Draco/Hermione_

_Two to one  
>Static to the sound of you and I<br>Undone for the last time_

"Draco – come here."

Hermione felt numb for a moment as Draco stepped out from the darkness and into her vision. She stared at him, and she saw fear in his eyes. He glanced at her for a millisecond, and the eye contact nearly threw her. She just wanted to cry out to him, tell him how much she loved him. She'd never truly let herself love him and now she was facing death, and she couldn't find the words.

_And there this was  
>Hiding at the bottom of your<br>Swimming pool, some September_

But the contact did not last, and Draco was directed towards Harry, and Greyback asked him to identify him. Draco looked scared as he stood in front of Harry, staring at him as Lucius hissed things into his ear, things Hermione couldn't hear from where she was due to the pounding of blood in her ears.

_And don't you think  
>I wish I could stay<em>

She ached to catch another glance of Draco. She wanted to be with him. She felt an inkling of hope knowing he was there. She was wishing, praying with all of her energy and her willpower that he could do something. She wanted to just run to him and hold him. It had been so long since they'd been together.

_Your lips give you away_

Hermione struggled against her captor's grip but Scabior simply held her wrists tighter behind her back, not bothering to reprimand her. She managed to catch a glimpse of Draco. Lucius was gripping Draco's arm with his hand, and it looked like it hurt. Hermione saw something in Draco's eyes – he _did_ recognise Harry. But he said that he wasn't sure. He was trying to help them, but trying wasn't good enough.

_I can hear it, the jet engine  
>Through the centre of the storm<em>

Draco went back to stand with his mother, who was examining the wand Harry had been carrying. Of course it wasn't his, but they didn't know that. They argued for a moment about the wand, before the werewolf, growing impatient, said, "What about the Mudblood, then?"

"She was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet!" cried Narcissa, pointing at Hermione.

_And I'm thinking I'd  
>Prefer not to be rescued<em>

Hermione felt cold as Scabior dragged her towards the light, where Harry had been just before, and she struggled again but Scabior simply twisted her arm and she cried out, becoming still as Narcissa moved Draco forward to look at her.

"Look, Draco – isn't it the Granger girl?" Narcissa asked quietly, as Draco looked at Hermione. Her eyes were wide with fear, and pleading him to help her. He stared back, and she could see the same fear reflected in his eyes, that frightened look she'd seen there before. She felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes as she waited for him to say something, anything that could set her free.

_Two to none  
>Roads that lead away from this<br>I'm following myself just this once_

"I –" he said, unable to form words. Narcissa squeezed his arm, and he swallowed, and then said. "Maybe – yeah."

Hermione felt the hope dissolve from her body. She felt nothing. The tears fell, and her body felt cold. Her eyes blurred, her senses were dulled. She felt numb. He hadn't saved her. They were going to die.

_And I've got spun  
>It appears you're spun as well<em>

Lucius began shouting something about Ron being the Weasley boy, and they moved Hermione so that Draco could look at Ron instead. Hermione did not struggle against her captors, but let herself hang limp, Scabior still holding her arm twisted behind her back, tears seeping down her face.

_It happens when you pay attention  
>This could take all year<em>

A moment later, a voice sounded.

"What is this? What's happened, Cissy?"

Bellatrix Lestrange walked into the room, her hair a mess and her wild eyes staring at the captives. She wandered around them, staring at each one until her eyes fell on Hermione.

"But surely, this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"

_But when it's quiet, does she hear me?  
>Jettisoned to the centre of the storm<em>

* * *

><p>Draco felt his veins freeze as his mad aunt held Hermione's tangled hair in a tight grip, pointing her wand at her throat. The others had been taken away and Draco watched as Bellatrix hissed in Hermione's face, "Where did you get that sword?"<p>

Hermione began to speak, voice shaky but Draco could see she was trying to be brave.

_And I'm thinking I  
>Prefer not to be rescued<em>

"We – we found it."

"Liar!" screeched Bellatrix, "You took it from my vault!"

A strangled sob left Hermione's trembling lips as she replied, voice thick with tears, "No – we didn't steal anything. We didn't – "

Her words were cut off by a long, drawn-out scream erupted from the very bottom of her lungs as Bellatrix cast the Cruciatus curse, and Draco felt it reverberate in his very bones. But what was worse was that he was right there, he was watching and he could have stopped it happening. But he didn't.

Ron was shouting Hermione's name from the cellar, and Draco glanced at his father and mother who stood there, doing nothing. How could they let this happen? The next thought hit Draco even harder. How could I let this happen?

_Oh, I can feel her, she's dying  
>Just to keep me cool<em>

"I'm going to ask you again," Bellatrix yelled, as Hermione lay in a crumpled position on the floor, her eyes streaming tears as she sobbed into the stone floor. "Where did you get this sword? WHERE?"

"We found it – please!" Hermione replied, voice hoarse but another flash of red light erupted and she was contorting again, her screaming shaking the very walls and Draco felt his muscles cramp as he watched her writhe. He wanted to help.

A moment later, the curse was lifted and Hermione fell back, body limp and her face was turned towards Draco. He saw her eyes open, the warm gold that he remembered gone and replaced with fear, and she stared at him and he felt like she was cutting him open – but he saw her eyes closed and he knew that she understood he could never save her. He wasn't built to be a hero.

He would always be the coward.

_I'm finally numb, so please  
>Don't get me rescued<em>

* * *

><p>Hermione had never felt so much pain in her entire life. She had only ever broken her arm once and that had been painful, but this was excruciating. Every nerve in her body screamed and burned, and she saw white, white hot flames burning her eyes and a moment later it was finished and she fell back to the floor, unable to move, unable to think.<p>

_And it's unclear  
>But this may be my last song<em>

And Draco could not rescue her. Not now, not ever.

Bellatrix screamed at her but Hermione could barely understand her words, she was screeching something about Gringott's, about Mudbloods – Hermione couldn't respond. She opened her mouths but no words came out – a moment later, Bellatrix was leaning over her, and with a silver knife in her hand she reached over to Hermione's arm, holding her wrist tightly.

_Oh, I can tell  
>She's raising hell to give to me<em>

A moment later, Hermione felt a searing pain in her arm and she screamed again, a bone-rattling scream as her entire body shook, trying to get free but she was so weak that it barely did anything. The knife was not an ordinary knife, this was no ordinary cut. She could feel the burn through her entire body, crawling and searing the skin all over her body.

It stopped for a moment, but started again a moment later.

_She got me warm  
>So please don't get me rescued<em>

It was never going to end…

* * *

><p>Draco knew he wouldn't have done anything. He could have lied to himself, and to Hermione, and said he was going to rescue her from the painful clutches of his mad aunt Bellatrix, but he wasn't. He wasn't nearly brave enough, he was so run down and every cry of pain that left Hermione's lips only crippled him more. He was so weak, and he was so afraid.<p>

_Oh, say you'll miss me one last time _

So maybe that was why when Harry and Ron escaped from the dungeon, Draco didn't fight nearly as much as he should when Harry snatched their wands from his hand. Maybe it was why he didn't join in the fight until his mother ordered him to, maybe why he didn't notice that Bellatrix had a hold of Hermione again.

Maybe it was why later on that night, after the ordeal had finished, Draco sat in his room and cried. He didn't know how long he stayed there, crying, but he felt so sick and so horrible, her screams echoing inside his mind. He didn't know why he thought he could ever deserve somebody as strong as her, if he would let her go through so much pain.

The defensive part of him said if he'd done anything, his family would have punished him. But another part of him wondered why he didn't rescue her, because he knew he should have taken that pain for her, should have stood between Bellatrix and the girl he loved most – but he hadn't, and it was over, and Hermione was gone and he knew he'd lost her for good.

What hurt most was that there was nothing to remember her by. No trinkets, no presents. They had never existed, and they never would again.

_I'll be strong, but whatever you do  
>Please don't get me rescued<em>

* * *

><p>Hermione felt cold. She was trying to force herself to fall asleep but no matter how exhausted she felt, it escaped her. She couldn't forget that look of fright in his eyes, the sickly paleness of his skin, the shaking in his voice. She missed him so much but he was so different. He wasn't the same boy she knew.<p>

Hermione shifted, her muscles cramping again, and the searing pain in her arm from the knife brought stinging tears to her eyes. And once the first tear had rolled down her cheek, the others followed, streaming down her face as she gripped the blanket and let the choking sobs escape. She missed him so much, she wanted him to hold her close and tell her it would be okay, but it was so far past okay. It would never be okay again. He was gone.

_'Cause I'm feeling like  
>I might need to be near you<em>

What hurt more than the Cruciatus curse and the deep cuts on her forearm was the fact that she had been hoping, praying throughout the torture that Draco would flick his wand and end it, and wrap his arms around her and take her away. She wanted so badly for him to prove he was better than them, to prove that he wasn't a bad person, and let her love him.

But he had stood there, and done nothing.

So later on that night, when Hermione felt Ron's hand wrap around hers and his whispering voice ask if she was okay, she didn't tell him to leave. She squeezed his hand, and she let out a shuddering sigh, and let him sleep beside her, holding her gently, and despite it all she was finally able to sleep.

_And I feel alright, so please  
>Don't get me rescued.<em>


End file.
